Just A Dance
by squeakykiki
Summary: Dancing is just dancing. Nothing significant, dramatic or heated involved. Right? Changed this to an M, just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**This is just an attempt on my part to make things a little heated, a little...passionate between BB without them actually doing the horizontal mumba or any associated activites. Not sure if it worked but, as I said, just an attempt!**

**Bones is not mine. More's the pity.**

Heaving a sigh of relief, Brennan followed Booth as he moved into the bar. She loved going out of town for cases but this one had dragged on and on and, now, she was more than ready to go home. The killer had been identified and caught, the family informed and, as of twenty-five minutes ago, all of the necessary paperwork had been completed. Booth had proposed a trip to the bar across the street from their hotel for a celebratory drink. There was a bar actually in the hotel but, in Booth's words, it was too squinty, too clinical. Brennan took this to mean "too clean".

Having said that, this place appealed to her. The dim lighting, the rustic decoration and the live band in the corner of the room did seem more preferable than what they had left behind at the hotel. The clientele here were mid-twenties to mid-sixties, everybody apparently happy to talk amongst themselves and soak up the relaxing atmosphere.

Booth turned to her with a smile. "See, Bones, what'd I tell you?"

She rolled her eyes and nodded slightly in agreement, refusing to say outright that he'd been correct. As they moved toward the bar, the band changed their song and a slow, Spanish tune began, the beat accentuated by assuredly plucked guitars and the singer's breathy, irresistible voice.

He noticed her attention shifting from the bar before them to the music and dancing going on in the corner. Couples joined and swayed in time to the beat, the low lights making the whole scene all the more romantic.

"What about a dance, Bones?"

She glanced at him askance, mouth falling open.

"What?"

"Well, come on, Bones, you obviously want to."

She made a flustered attempt to deny this.

"No, I…I don't and, Booth, we're partners and…"

His voice slightly raspy, Booth leaned in and challenged, "C'mon, Bones. It's just a dance."

Unable to think up a suitable retort, she stared at him wordlessly. Surely one dance wouldn't matter. One innocent dance. A perfectly natural social activity. And an acceptable activity to partake in with a colleague. Right?

He raised his eyebrows at her, his lips twitching. With a somewhat resigned expression, she nodded once at him. His shoulders relaxed and he chuckled softly. He tilted his head in the direction of the other dancers and began to move toward them.

Embarrassed, she moved onto the crowded dance floor behind him. She avoided eye contact with anyone she passed. It wasn't that she was flustered about dancing with him…it was just, when she thought about the first time they'd danced like this, and everything that had happened since then, all of the feelings evoked and strengthened over time…well, that was when the embarrassment kicked in.

He seemed to have found a suitable spot. He stopped and turned to face her. Confused by the churning feeling in her stomach, Brennan avoided his gaze and reached up both hands to run her fingers through her hair, trying desperately to appear perfectly nonchalant in his presence.

The breath was snatched from her and her wide eyes flew to his face as he reached his hands up and firmly gripped her forearms, effectively holding her arms aloft.

Her eyes darted from side to side, fear etched across her features.

"Booth!" she hissed, tilting her head to indicate the other dancers.

He chuckled deep in his chest as he realized she was trying to imply that perhaps he was being inappropriate. She swallowed heavily, feeling as though she could hear his low laughter rumbling through her but knowing that was impossible.

He leaned his head forward conspiratorially, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Look around, Bones. They don't care. And you shouldn't either. Stop thinking so much. Just feel."

With that, he took a step closer and tightened his hold ever so slightly on her bare forearms. Her lips parted as a surge of desire bubbled through her.

She snuck a look at the other dancers. Nobody was paying them the slightest bit of attention. Most were plastered against their partner, lost in the moment. The seductive Spanish rhythm flowed around her, ensnaring her and rendering her quite helpless.

Gaining confidence, she entangled her fingers slightly in her hair as her hips gently began to move. His eyes bored into her as a hungry smile tugged at his lips. "'Atta girl," he growled. He moved a thumb slowly up her skin and began to rub gentle encouraging circles against the bones of her elbow.

Her blood seemed to boil as it coursed through her veins. Her eyes met his and held the gaze. She watched the deep chocolate of his stare darken even further and felt an impossibly warm shiver run through her.

Her hips were rolling gently in time to the music, circling first one way and then the next. He seemed captivated, his eyes moving and fastening on her provocatively swaying pelvis. His appreciation made her bold and filled her with a reckless desire. She stepped forward once and continued her hips' slow rotation. This time, their iliac crests, hers prominent, his less so, bumped gently together.

The two let out spontaneous trembling breaths as their hips joined and then parted. She gazed up at him through her lashes. From the way he was leaning toward her and the need she saw shining from his eyes, she knew she wasn't alone in thinking of another activity during which their bodies might collide in such a manner.

She breathed deep, needing oxygen to reach her starved brain and stop this intoxicating cycle. But, oxygen be damned, she really didn't want to stop. His eyes moved to the hollow of her neck and the light sheen of perspiration he found there nearly sent him over the edge.

Brennan continued to circle her hips, feeling the heat radiating from his every pore as she did. The next time she moved forward, he moved in a similar manner. Due to the tilted position of their pelvises, this allowed their pubic bones to connect for the first time.

Their worlds constricted to that point, to that sensation. They could hear the other's breathing as everything around them seemed to fade away. The air between them was distractingly close, everything separating and within them incredibly warm.

The grinding of his jeans against her more formal, lighter material, work pants sent a bolt of desire shooting from her core around her entire body. She moaned quietly, eyes suddenly heavy-lidded. He grunted, face a mask of want, and pushed himself against her again, more firmly this time.

Her eyes fluttered and every hair on her skin seemed to stand on end though her body felt unbearably warm. She felt him shudder against her and relished in the increased friction.

He began to move his hands incredibly slowly down her arms. Her skin burned, her eyes rolled and her breathing stopped momentarily. He shuffled forward very slightly as he reached the bottom of her forearms. Here, he gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, eyes praising her for not having bolted.

Her eyes burned into him as she licked her bottom lip, soft strands of hair falling over her face as her hands continued to move through her silken locks. A low groan escaped him and his eyes darkened even further. Their hips continued to sway, jostling occasionally.

Every nerve ending was firing uncontrollably as he began to move his fingers lower. He made no effort to reach out and touch them, but he made damn certain that the sides of his thumbs grazed the outside and bottom of her breasts as he continued south. Almost unaware of it, she arched her back towards him with a breathy sigh.

His fingers splayed so as to trace the length of her ribs under her light top as he continued his torturously slow descent. She had to make a conscious effort to stop her head from rolling back.

He finally reached the flare of her hips. He paused there a moment, eyes burning into hers, as he positioned the heel of his hands so as to meld perfectly against the curve of her bone. Her skeleton felt liquid. Had he not been providing such firm support, she would have certainly lost her balance.

Booth ran his fingers around to the small of her back, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Her eyes found his as he increased the pressure of his hands, gently coaxing her forwards and against him.

Both could feel the other's warm breath against their skin as their bodies connected. He fused her against him more tightly as her hands slowly moved from her hair and dangled behind his back, wrists balancing on his shoulders.

Her breasts were pushed firmly against his chest. She imagined that she could feel every pectoral lining his stomach through his light shirt. The lower halves of their bodies were inseparable. This made dancing quite difficult but neither wanted to break the connection so they contented themselves with slow, shuffling movements.

Almost unaware of them, her fingers moved to his shirt collar and began to play absently with his hair. He chuckled softly and, as the last lingering notes from the band rang out, let his fingers trail the line of exposed skin between her top and pants. She gasped quietly and instinctively arched toward him. He let out a quick breath, eyes momentarily leaving hers and lingering on their merged pelvises.

He leaned forward, breath tickling her ear and sending waves of desire tumbling down her spine. "See, Bones," he whispered, as he pushed his pubic bone firmly against hers one final time, taking care to grind up and down. Her breath came out in a whoosh and her knees wobbled as he stepped away. As he began to move toward the bar once more, he completed his sentence in a guttural growl.

"It was just a dance."


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, well, peeps here and over on the ABY convinced me to continue with this. Of course, if that's not what appeals to you, the first part can just be read as a one shot, with no real need to further the plot.**

**I've tried to continue my earlier wish: no smut. Well, no taking of clothes off anyway.**

**Bones characters, plots etc. etc. are not mine. If they were, something similar to this would be happening every single episode.**

Brennan blinked. _Just a dan…_ Her jaw set, her eyes narrowed and she marched after her partner with such a determined air that a number of the patrons moved out of her way without her having to so much as glance at them.

He was mere inches from the bar when her hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder. Taken by surprise, he stumbled slightly, looking around wide-eyed for his interceptor. Taking advantage of his usurped centre of gravity, she spun him to face her.

"JUST a dance?" she demanded, jaw nearly clenched too tight to get the words out.

His face took on an expression of cautious amusement.

"Sorry?"

She closed the foot of space between them, taking note of his widening eyes as she did.

"Just a dance?" she repeated, her breath hot on his cheek.

His gaze darted quickly from side to side. He swallowed heavily before meeting her unwavering stare.

"Jeez, Bones. Yeah, just a dance."

Trembling with fury and another awakened emotion she was trying ever so hard to ignore, she leaned into him, pressing her entire body up and down the length of his.

She tilted her head and breathed against his ear.

"_Just_…" she purred, drawing out the syllable as much as possible, and had the satisfaction of feeling the entirety that was Seeley Booth shiver uncontrollably.

"Bones!" he gasped and moved his hands to encircle her wrists. An age passed before he pushed her gently away. She stood and regarded him silently, a smile playing at her lips as she watched him shake his head, trying to dissipate the hazy fog left by her presence.

Finally, his eyes met hers. She had the satisfaction of seeing his flustered expression before he growled, "Maybe we should go outside."

She turned on her heel and walked out, confident that he would follow her.

The cool of the evening helped soothe her burning skin. She heard heavy footsteps and fought a smile as she walked over to the side of the building. He followed wordlessly.

Back to the wall, she turned to face him, eyes brimming with unasked questions. He stood quietly, about a foot from her, nervousness evident in his face and stance.

She moved closer, watching him intently.

"Do I seem like a little girl to you?"

He gasped, temporarily speechless as he felt her rub up against him as her fingers trailed down his back.

"Nope," he managed to splutter, "_definitely_ not a little girl."

She smiled hungrily at him.

"Right. I'm a big girl. A woman, in fact. A woman who can make her own decisions and doesn't need protection from the possible _consequences_ of said decisions."

Booth was having trouble understanding what she had said. This could have had something to do with the fact that as Brennan growled the word "consequences" she had pushed against his ass, effectively grinding him, and any part of him that may have expanded, against her.

She seemed to be awaiting some kind of response so he squeaked frantically at her. She repeated the action and he was sure his eyes rolled.

"Definitely…definitely…woman…no doubt about it."

She smiled and rested her face against his cheek, allowing her lips and teeth to graze his skin as she spoke.

"So, we're in agreement then? I am a fully grown woman who doesn't need her partner to shelter her?"

Booth groaned. Too many big words in that sentence, like "a" and "to". Whatever she was doing with her hips was out of this world.

He nodded dumbly at her, lips moist as he frantically sucked in oxygen.

She leaned back and regarded him, a lazy, satisfied smile softening her features. Then, she moved forward and kissed him.

Her lips pushed and melded against his. Booth's temporary immobility vanished in an instant and he responded hungrily. Within seconds she felt herself pushed against the bar's outer wall, knocking the breath from her, while his hands roamed her hips and thighs.

Her hands danced over his shoulders as he wrapped an arm around her waist and added his tongue to their kiss.

Embarrassed, she heard herself moan as he stroked her teeth, the roof of her mouth, her tongue… Her audible enjoyment, however, had the effect of pulling a groan from his throat. He pushed himself more firmly against her. Brennan decided it might be a good idea to continue moaning. To never stop moaning, if she could help it.

She slid her hands down his back, grinning against his mouth as she felt him shiver, although whether it was due to the feeling of her cool fingertips through his thin shirt or her…proximity, she could never be certain.

The hand around her waist shifted to allow access under her top. She giggled as his fingers moved and stroked, sliding over the skin at her side and moving over the planes of her stomach.

She nipped his lip gently as she slid her hands down over his jeans and settled them in his back pockets.

He pulled away from her somewhat, directing an amused expression, complete with questioning eyebrow, at her.

She shrugged delicately and flexed her fingers slightly. He bucked gently and groaned from deep within as she ran her nails over his skin through the fabric.

She smiled at him, eyes heavy, as she explored and manipulated his skin through the denim barrier.

"I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that," she growled and whimpered in delight as he pushed her against the wall with renewed vigour.

He used the hand that wasn't busy under her top to tilt her head, allowing him to plant long, lingering, open-mouthed kisses along the triangle of her jaw. She could hear the roar of blood in her ears and whimpered something inaudible, pleading with him to return to her mouth.

He was more than happy to, his lips caressing, his tongue stroking, his teeth gently grazing. Brennan could feel her knees pressing hard into his shins as she fought to stay upright.

She slipped one hand out of his back pocket and ran it lightly to the front of his body, following the creases of his jeans. Realising her intentions, he nipped her lip very gently in retribution and shook his head slightly.

Ignoring him completely, her hand delved lower, fingers finding and exploring the bulge at his crotch. He groaned into her mouth and she felt him stand taller against her as his spine grew rigid. Growing bolder, she began to stroke with relish, the feeling of the coarse denim against her smooth skin oddly arousing.

With a strangled cry, he pulled his hand out from under her top, where it had lain, immobile, on its path toward her bra since her activities below had begun.

He removed her hand forcefully from his jeans, eyes wide, breathing erratic.

"Can't do that here, Bones."

Her faux pout turned into a seductive grin.

"So…your room or mine?"

She startled him momentarily into breathlessness. Disconcerted, he shook his head, a very small smile on his lips.

"C'mon, Bones. You know we…it just…we keep telling people we're partners and…"

She reached a hand around his back and pulled him against her. She moved very slowly up and down, letting him feel the length of her rubbing off him. His breathing was coming out in short painful bursts.

"You started it," she whispered, her lips brushing off his as she spoke, but never fully connecting.

He began to tremble slightly and tried to kiss her. She wouldn't let him, just kept her mouth light against his as she enunciated, words barely audible as her lips shivered off his.

"You danced with me…a very _unpartnerlike _dance…then you take me outside and push me against a wall…and now you want to leave it like this? With both of us so _very unsatisfied_….?"

She pushed her pubic bone forcefully against his and revelled in the groan she wrenched from his throat. His eyes closed briefly as his back arched.

"What's the problem, Booth?"

His mouth gaped open as he fought to find the words.

"I…"

She tilted her head slightly downwards, allowing her to look up at him through her lashes.

"Tell me you don't want me."

She let her lips pout more than she normally would have done and fought a satisfied smile as she awaited his response. She had him. Hook, line and sinker, she had him.

His hand shot out and cupped the back of her head. She winced at the thought of the stonewall grazing his knuckles. He didn't do it forcefully but he made sure her head tilted upward, making her look directly into his burning eyes.

"I want you," he rasped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, so I was challenged over on the ABY to try and continue the "clothing mandatory" theme. For the moment, I've managed it. But I don't know that I can for much longer!**

**Be warned, there is absolutely no plotline here! It was meant to be a simple oneshot that somehow got expanded.**

**I don't own Bones. If I did, I wouldn't have to write about this kind of activity between BB, I could simply watch it. Over and over and over.**

Brennan's breath hitched and her back arched into him at his words.

Booth chuckled at her response, grasping the back of her head more assuredly as he leaned into her.

Allowing his breath to caress and stroke the skin at her cheekbones, his irises darkened as her eyelids fluttered at the sensation.

Booth slowly moved his head over towards the side of her head, leaving a trail of warm, intimate breath in his wake.

He heard her gasp quietly as he exhaled gently against her ear, making her knees buckle and sending her world turning.

He began to plant soft kisses along the edge of her ear, lips barely brushing the sensitive skin. His attentions were sending tickly, bubbling sensations down her neck and shuddering on through her spine. She was having trouble keeping her head upright.

He pressed his fingers into the back of her head, on the opposite side to his mouth, gently tilting her ear up toward him.

"I want you so much. You have no idea," he whispered raggedly into the shell of her ear, igniting fireworks across her skin.

A primitive groan rumbled through her as her body sang with sensation at his words and all that they implied.

His fingers moved across her hair, gently grazing her scalp, rendering her speechless as pleasure bolted through her, exploding in her womb as she cried out softly.

"Booth…" she murmured into his neck, pulling him closer and burying herself in the strong, masculine scent of him.

Encouraged by the elevated heart rate she felt quivering under his skin, she impulsively darted out her tongue and licked his neck once or twice, feeling his taste at the back of her throat.

His hips bucked gently against hers and she heard him draw a hasty breath in.

"I want…" she gasped as his arms snaked around her waist.

He pulled her lopsidedly along the side of the building, deeper into the shadows. Her breathing was deafeningly loud to her ears.

"Booth?" she whispered questioningly as his fingers roamed the sensitive skin at her waist.

She tilted her face up to look at him. He took advantage of this and began to rain butterfly soft kisses across her cheekbones and over her temples. Her shaking hands found the front of his shirt as she pulled him closer.

She knew they should move, should continue this exploration privately, but part of her was so incredibly turned on by the public forum, by the fact that anybody turning into this darkened alley could become an unwitting voyeur. She could tell he liked it too.

Brennan began trembling uncontrollably as his hands moved around to the front of her formal trousers.

"I need…" she groaned against his lips as he pushed the heel of one hand against her pubic bone.

Her breath was warm and erratic against his stubbled cheek as heightened sensation flooded her body. Booth grunted unconsciously, smiling at her obvious enjoyment, at the fact that he was the one leading her to the edge.

He relaxed the pressure suddenly and she gasped. Her eyes roamed frantically to his as he kissed her lips briefly.

"Hang on, Temperance," he mumbled as he pushed back against the bone once more. The tingling pleasure seemed to heighten, stronger than the last time. Her very skin seemed to tighten as she focused on pushing back against him.

He suddenly brought his hand away again and she nearly cried. She knew what he was doing, though. She was certain that when he finally allowed her to soar, it would be far stronger than if he had kept pushing on the first go.

And she also knew he wouldn't be able to keep it going much longer. The shortness of his breath and the need etched across his face, the need to see her experience dizzying realms of bliss, would prevent him from continuing.

His hand was back and this time she knew it was the last time. Her hips, lower back and legs were working vigorously to push and grind against him as hard as she could. Whimpering, unintelligible noises were spilling from her lips. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Come on, Bones," he coaxed, vocal chords straining as he fought to keep his arousal under control.

"Temperance," she gasped, "call me Temperance."

Everything was shivering and short-circuiting simultaneously. She let out a warning groan, then another. Knowing she was dangling from the very outskirts of restraint, he slid his fingers underneath her and pushed up against the seam of her trousers.

Her body seemed to explode from the centre outward. Bubbling, fizzing sensations were spreading like wildfire, radiating out from that focal point.

And his lips were on hers, his free hand holding her tight against him.

"God, you're beautiful, Temperance. Divine."

Her body slowly began to recover: her heart rate slowing, her vision returning. Through it all, he supported her and whispered endearments. Her legs felt like jelly, her brain felt somewhere in the stratosphere.

Wide-eyed, she gazed at him, a lopsided smile on her lips. He chuckled softly at her unfocused expression.

"I don't know what to say, Seeley." She shook her head, smiling to herself. He winked, the flirtatious gesture shooting her heart rate skyward once more.

"Just let all the blood go back," she advised as he attempted to move her.

His face was startled as he scrutinized her, terrified that he had somehow hurt her. He raised his eyebrows questionably, almost fearfully.

She smothered a snort.

"That's what an orgasm is, Booth. The blood all rushes to your pubic area as you become aroused and then the orgasm is simply the blood exploding back into your body, which feels…euphoric."

He didn't know whether to laugh or roll his eyes. Instead he decided to focus on the word that had caught his attention.

"Explode?" he questioned, swallowing heavily.

"Mmmhmm," she clarified, moving closer to him. She knew her increased breathing was causing her bust to heave more so than usual. She also knew that he would be very aware of this fact if it was pressed against his chest.

The breath stuttered out of him as she pushed herself up against him. She gently nudged his feet apart and settled a leg on either side of one of his, effectively straddling herself against his thigh. Looking dangerously disorientated, he pushed his knee up against her and was rewarded with a breathy sigh.

She moved her arms around his waist and slid her hands up under his shirt. She felt muscles tighten under her fingers and his eyes shut momentarily.

Her lips met his as one hand moved from under his shirt to grab his ass through his jeans. He groaned, entangling his fingers in her hair as his tongue danced with hers.

Her hand strayed from the back of his jeans around to the front. He grabbed her tighter, slowing the activity of his tongue.

His fingers fluttered lightly over his groin. She grinned in delight against his lips at the gentle moaning rumbling from his throat.

She pulled her mouth away slowly, eyes weighted, lips parted. She swallowed heavily, balance wavering.

Smiling at the dazed expression on his face, she leaned forward and, in her huskiest voice as her fingers gripped the bulge in his nether regions, she whispered, "You want to explode, Seeley Booth?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks so much for all of the enthusiastic reviews. You guys amaze me. Honest to God, I'm speechless. I hope I replied to everyone's comments...I tried...but I don't call this darn thing a "compooper" for nothing.**

**I'm just copying and pasting this part from what I wrote over on the aby: Ok, well, this section was helped in part by the song "Because The Night". There is debate to this day as to whether Patti Smith or Bruce Springsteen should be solely credited with this song. I have no idea so I'm going to name them both and be done with it. The suggestive lyrics helped, I can tell you!**

**And on we go...this is getting difficult!**

_Because the night belongs to lovers,_

_Because the night belongs to lust_

"Oh God!"

She had never heard his voice huskier, the timbre of his voice stuttering and desperate with longing.

She left slow, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw line, allowing her teeth to graze his skin slightly.

"I'm going to take that as a yes,"

She glanced up at him, eyes wide and innocent. A mischievous smirk pulled at her lips, betraying her decidedly-less-than-pure intentions.

His eyes seemed slightly unfocused even though he, she couldn't help but remember, had not toppled over the precipice of ecstasy. And she intended to rectify that. More than once, if she had her way.

They stood quietly for a few minutes, the only sounds were ragged breathing and the occasional syncopated moan as their hands, lips and tongues explored each other.

Eventually he pulled away with a breathless gasp, resting his forehead against hers, eyes closing as he willed his heart rate to slow to less cardiac arrest inducing levels.

"_Jesus_, Bones. You're just…"

He stared at her wordlessly, shaking his head faintly as though to emphasise his lack of ability to adequately explain his feelings to her. She couldn't really blame him. There couldn't be much blood left in his brain.

"Pleasure's all mine, Seeley," she purred, tilting her head to the side.

"Let me give some to you," she offered, pulling lightly on his hand, leading him away from the darkened alley, to somewhere where they could continue their exploration without fear of discovery or arrest.

He followed willingly, stumbling slightly as his inactive legs tried to remember how to move. He slowed as they emerged back out onto the street, stopping her short with the pressure he was exerting on her hand.

Brennan watched in amusement as the formidable Seeley Booth raised his hands up and rubbed his eyes like a tired child, trying to familiarize his startled retinas with the blinding streetlights. He grumbled inaudibly to himself as he blinked in confusion, darting a glare at the white glow radiating from the lamp over his head.

"Come on," she cajoled, her voice low and full of unspoken promises. He took her offered hand wordlessly and trotted obediently after her as she moved out further onto the street.

Booth rubbed her knuckles absently as they dodged the infrequent late evening traffic. He was rewarded with the visual of a slow shiver thundering down her spine as she moved ahead of him. He flirted briefly with the idea of pulling her back and against him but decided that, on the whole, it probably wasn't the safest activity to partake in while crossing the road. Not that he wasn't sorely tempted.

The soft, tasteful lighting filtering out from the hotel's façade brought him screeching back to reality. He was going into a hotel. Not just into a hotel: into a hotel room. With Bones. He wasn't quite sure whether it was to be his or her room…but he knew that was the intended destination. And, given their activities over the last half hour or so…he also knew what was building up, eventually to culminate in a panting, screaming, sweaty finale in whatever room they ended up in. His heart slammed painfully against his ribs.

His mouth was dry as he leaned over her and pushed the door open, allowing her to step in before him. He and Bones…they were going to…he suddenly didn't know whether he was standing vertically or lying horizontally, turning left or right. The whole world seemed to invert and move past him impossibly fast as the reality of the situation sunk in.

She seemed to be talking to him, her voice echoic and distant. He shook his head and realised with a jolt that she was running her thumb gently across the inside of his wrist. It surprised him how comfortable she was with him…but he supposed, really, the intimacy had been there all along. They just hadn't expressed it physically.

Booth glanced around and noticed that they were standing in front of a set of ornately carved doors that marked the entrance to the elevator. He swallowed heavily and licked his lips. She turned into him, her eyes searching his curiously. One arm lightly gripped his bicep while her knees gently bumped his calves. His groin was suddenly throbbing painfully.

"So," she breathed quietly, her breath tickling his jaw, "whose room?"

This didn't help the groin problem. He tried to frantically run through the possibilities in his head, weighing up the pros and cons. His room…well, it was HIS room. No unexpected surprises there. It was also tidy. Not that he suspected hers wouldn't be, he just knew he had tidied away his belongings before they'd left for the bar earlier. But, when they…it…was over, she mightn't want him to stick around. In which case, it would be easier for her if she weren't the one who had to move. Also, she would be more comfortable in her own room.

He nodded his head silently once or twice, confirming things in his mind.

"Your room," he croaked into her hair, the delicate floral scent of her sending his senses reeling and his eyes rolling. She stiffened slightly and forced him to look at her.

Their eyes locked, each searching the other. He became lost, hopelessly ensnared by the brilliance of her gaze while she searched his pools of dark chocolate for the rationale behind his decision. Whatever answer she found left her pleasantly surprised.

"Thank you, Booth," she whispered, her long cool fingers running over the concealed ridges of his torso. The tingling at the base of his spine intensified as she breathed, "I'll make it up to you."

He choked out something inaudible as the elevator doors opened smoothly and she stepped inside. He followed her after a moment, closely joined by a middle-aged balding man. Booth nodded once to the man in greeting then settled himself beside Brennan, standing slightly ahead of her, as though to shield her from any unwanted advances. She smiled to herself behind his back as the doors slid shut.

No sooner had the elevator shuddered to life than Booth felt Brennan's fingers running over his ass. His spine straightened to an almost painful rigidity and he glanced quickly at the man. He hadn't noticed. Well, why would he? Her lusty movements were hidden from view.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as the elevator halted at level three. He licked his lips frantically. Their rooms were on level eight. Oh God.

The man nodded pleasantly at the two as he moved out of the enclosed space. Booth barely had time to register the fact that they were alone before a noisy party of six took the man's place. The group were in their late twenties and had obviously been sampling from the mini-bar in their room. He stepped backwards hurriedly to avoid them, immediately regretting it as Brennan cupped the underside of his left cheek.

The laughing, intoxicated group seemed to be having trouble figuring out what floor they were going to. Eventually they realised they were heading for the ground level and somebody pressed the button in question. Booth let out a serrated breath as the doors clanked shut again. Brennan's nails began to knead his skin through the fabric.

Level four, level five…she was groping him quite wantonly now, her face a perfect picture of innocence. He bit his lip as her fingers slid beneath him and stroked rigorously. His eyes squeezed shut as the door opened yet again and an elderly European couple stepped in.

The doors shut once more as her middle finger lightly traced the seam of his trousers. Gasping, he glanced quickly at the neon number over the door. Only level six?! It was all going to be over, she would have him finished before he even made it to their floor.

He felt sweat prickle his forehead and he shifted uncomfortably. Part of him longed to pull her hand away and ignore the looks and catcalls from the surrounding people as the truth dawned on them…but another part of him (no doubt, an incredibly masochistic part) was wonderfully, painfully aroused by the close quarters, the possibility of discovery…

His nerve endings were singing, the entirety of his skin seemed to be contracting and expanding all at once. He couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. All he knew for certain was the intimate touch of her fingers and the deliciously tight feeling in his crotch.

Her nails moved from the front to the back, scratching over every bit of denim-enclosed skin she could find.

Booth was sure his heart stopped. It had to have. A low growl escaped him and he shifted his weight onto his toes, physically standing taller without having meant to.

"You like that?" she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, for his ears only. Her free hand moved up and played with the buttons on his shirt. For all the world she looked like a perfectly innocent woman, slightly bold, though restrained, on her first date. Oh, how appearances can deceive.

He squeaked in response and one or two people turned around to look at him. He was in no position to explain his behaviour to them, especially not when her hand suddenly took a firm grasp of the entirety of him that was smushed and straining underneath him, painfully restricted by his jeans. He whimpered piteously as the doors opened once more, barely hearing the muffled thump as they slid out of sight over the roaring in his ears.

Her hand slid out from under him and lightly caressed his arse once more before gently pushing him towards the entrance. As he stumbled forward he realised it was their floor. Thank all the Heavens and little angels above. _Eight_. Sweet eight. He never realised how much he loved that number. He mumbled nonsensical words of excuse as he bumped and knocked into people on his way out. His poor knees felt like he'd left them on the ground floor.

Ever the picture of propriety, Brennan's hand was now on the small of his back, gently guiding him and offering small smiles of apology for her partner's imitations of a drunken rhino as he crashed his way out of the small space.

Her arm slid around his waist as they moved out onto the corridor.

"Plenty more where that came from," she promised breathily.


	5. Chapter 5

**Apologies for the delay in the updating: personal reasons and lack of inspiration are the culprits. Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to read and especially those who reviewed. Same song as last time helped me to write this.**

**Bones is not mine. These kinda scenes would be played out on a very regular basis if it was.**

_Because the night belongs to lovers, _

_Because the night belongs to us_

She could smell him, hear him, _feel_ him behind her, breathing hard as she fumbled to find her hotel key. Her gentle, half-apologetic giggles seemed to fuel his anxiousness and she caught the sound of a barely smothered groan rattling through him as the tinkling noise of the key chain falling from her shaking fingers back into the confines of her bag crashed through the air.

Had he been less of a gentleman, she would have expected him to wrench the infuriatingly full handbag off her. She half wished he would.

The breath stuttered out of her as she felt him press himself up against her back, allowing her to feel every hardened inch of him. Time seemed to freeze momentarily as the two stood suspended, listening to the crescendo of their heartbeats slamming against their eardrums.

After an agonizing few seconds, he bucked his hips, _once_…_twice_. His fingers reached up and barely skimmed the exposed skin above the collar of her top. Her mouth opened reflexively and her vision blurred as her eyelids began to droop. Her breathy moan was a fitting companion to his desperate growl.

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his breath against her skin and the very words he spoke sending liquid ripples cascading down her spine.

"If we're not in this room in the next thirty seconds, Bones, I'm gonna have to have you right here,"

She gasped something indistinguishable (that seemed to agree with his agenda) and, having reached the end of her rapidly shortening fuse, promptly upended the contents of her bag onto the corridor's plush carpet.

Booth let out a squeak that could have been of surprise or approval before bending down to triumphantly scoop the elusive key off the floor.

"'Atta girl," he murmured, resting a hand on the small of her back before leaning in to give her a congratulatory kiss. Brennan's already heightened senses were propelled into overdrive as she responded in kind, twisting around to try and get her hands on as much as him as possible. He lazily reached his hands up and framed her face, the cool of the hotel key against her cheek letting her know just how _hot_ she really was.

After a few moments of frenzied kissing she managed to splutter, "What about your thirty second rule?"

He chuckled deep in his throat, half-caught between asking her where she'd picked up the phrase and the other half looking seriously tempted by the possibility of going through with his threat.

He paused for a moment, as though weighing up the pros and cons of the situation, then gave a little nod, whether at his partner or to himself he couldn't be certain. Brennan snatched the key from his lax grip and breathlessly spun around, fumbling to unlock the door.

With a little grunt, Booth bent over and began trying to gather his partner's cell phone, pens, tube of lipstick and various other accoutrements together. Brennan pushed open the door with a flourish, turning back with an excited smile to show Booth her achievement. She caught sight of his floundering attempts to collect her personal items. With a tiny frustrated sigh, she grabbed his wrists and unceremoniously began to kick the wayward articles through the door.

He blinked and straightened, apparently perfectly happy to allow her to speed up the process in this way but unwilling to imitate her actions lest it be seen as a sign of disrespect. As the last pen went ricocheting off the opposite wall inside the hazy room, Brennan slowly turned back around.

Her eyes were bright, her hair slightly mussed and tiny patches of colour bloomed on her cheekbones. He couldn't help but lean in and kiss her, suppressing a groan as her lips parted eagerly before he even had to request entry.

Her hands moved to his hips, one sliding up under his shirt and gently caressing the skin of his back. One of his hands held her face, sending tingling sensations shooting in all directions from where his fingers danced against her jaw line and the sensitive shell of her ear. She tilted her head silently, trying to breathe as much of him into her as possible. His fingers moved and began stroking her hair while his other hand pressed into the small of her back, pushing her forward and against him.

A gentle mew of pleasure was tugged from her lips as he softly took her bottom lip into his mouth and suckled softly. He could feel her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. He began to shuffle forward, putting more pressure at her back to prevent her from stumbling. She was as unwilling as he to break the connection and slowly moved backwards, trusting him to keep her safe.

Once they had made sufficient progress across the threshold, Booth swung his foot back and kicked the door shut, effectively shrouding them in a cocoon of murky shadows. Brennan gasped slightly and her hands gripped him tighter. It all seemed so real now that they were finally alone, completely secluded from questioning glances and the possibility of discovery.

The movement of their lips and tongue ceased and the two leaned back slightly, regarding one another. Booth's eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness and the hazy light from the street outside displayed her face to him. She was biting her lower lip gently but her features showed no other trace of nervousness.

He licked his lips quickly, his gaze darting from her lips, her eyes, the dark promising shadow of her bed and back again. Her eyebrows rose slightly as though waiting for him to speak. He took a deep breath, the rows of his teeth knocking off each other awkwardly as he spoke.

"Bones, look, I want to tell you…"

She seemed to realise exactly where he was heading with this. She raised her hand, head shaking frantically.

"Don't, Booth. You don't need to say anything. This doesn't _have_ to be deep or meaningful. It doesn't need to be."

He spluttered; eyes widening as he gazed at her incredulously.

She ignored him completely, her face set.

"No, Booth. We…I…You! You are…"

He reached a hand up and rested it on the side of her face. His fingertips danced against her cheekbone and temple, his palm melded into the contours of her cheek.

"Bones," he rasped, forcing her to look at him, to listen.

"Bones, there is no _me_ without _you_…anymore."

Her lips parted but no sound escaped her. She scrutinised him mercilessly, as though certain she would find a trace of insincerity if she looked hard enough.

After a moment or two, she believed him. He couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was, but something about her countenance softened. Her skin seemed to smoothen, her shoulders seemed to drop and she just appeared to breathe easier. He offered her a lopsided smile, wanting to let her set the pace.

Her lips twitched as she gazed back at him. The boyish charm he managed to exude on a daily basis never failed to lift her spirits…even when they were sharing a serious 'moment', like this one. His fingertips were buzzing with the need to touch her but he forced himself to wait, to let her lead the way.

The gentle cadence and vibration of Brennan's cell phone on the floor caused both partners to jump and stare at the offending article wordlessly. Booth resisted the urge to grumble but waited, poised, to see what his partner would do. Surely she wouldn't consider answering it?

After a second's hesitation, she reached for it. He groaned silently, feeling the vibration in his chest even though he couldn't hear it. Unable to stop a frustrated, "Bones!" from escaping his lips, he regarded her, spine rigid. She shrugged in that truly offhand way of hers and offered, "It could be important,"

He bit back a retort and only just managed to stop himself rolling his eyes when she examined the screen and remarked, "It's Angela," He grumbled childishly to himself as she answered the call with a brisk, "Brennan," Oh, she'd pay for that.

Angela's excited voice filled the room, chattering on about the fun Brennan should be having and lamenting the fact the anthropologist probably wasn't taking this opportunity to truly 'let her hair down'. Brennan tried to hide a smile as she explained to Angela that she was here to work and her smile widened further as Angela impatiently brushed that little detail aside.

Brennan was so absorbed in the artist's retelling of the interesting, and not entirely useful, experiment Hodgins and Zach had conducted earlier that day that she failed to notice her partner moving towards her. Her attention was suddenly jolted to his presence when his hands brushed her posterior while his hips gently bumped hers, nudging her backwards.

She gave a little gasp of surprise that Angela immediately inquired about, over-heightened concern evident in her voice. Brennan tried to formulate a sufficient reason, which proved rather difficult when her head gently bumped against the wall, the backs of her knees meeting solid resistance.

She tried to listen to Angela's lamenting over Brennan's absence, how little work there was to do, how quiet everything was with the anthropologist gone… Her listening skills were impaired somewhat as her eyes closed in pleasure, her back arched and her mouth fell open in a silent gasp as Booth continued to knead and trace the contours of her ass while grinding their pubic bones together.

Brennan couldn't help a low "_uh_" of pleasure escaping as the fingers of one hand moved beneath her, teasing her unabashedly. Angela immediately jumped on this, asking what Brennan was doing, was something wrong and, with a smile painfully evident in her tone, was she alone?

Brennan hastily argued that, yes, she was alone, she was here to work and that, actually, she could probably hang up because she still had a lot to do. Thankfully Angela didn't hear the thump as her friend's skull fell back against the wall when her skilled partner began nipping and sucking at the apex of her collarbone.

Angela grumbled that, seeing as it was Brennan's last night, she should at least get out and have some fun, if only for a little while. It took Brennan some time to answer as Booth suddenly lifted her up, tilting his hips outward to increase the bubbling pressure and pushing his rather enlarged manhood against her most sensitive spot. Brennan nearly dropped the phone as her legs snaked around her partner's waist, grinding and rubbing everything even harder together.

She mumbled to Angela that maybe she might go out later but she wasn't sure that now was the opportune moment. The artist sighed, completely oblivious to Brennan's head falling to Booth's shoulder with a silent shriek as his hands moved around to the front and tortured her as his pubic area was doing.

"I hope your F.B.I. man is showing you a good time," Angela chided.

Brennan bit back a groan as Booth's hand moved to tease the sensitive skin hidden just inside the waistline of her pants.

"He's trying," she managed to gasp after a moment.

His other hand darted up and began to stroke and explore the curved, heaving flesh of her breasts. She squeaked into the mouthpiece of the phone as he gave one painfully erect peak a gentle tweak. "Look, Angela, I _really_ have to go, I'll call you tomorrow,"

Before the artist had a chance to reply, Brennan terminated the call and allowed the phone to fall from her grasp. Her arms wrapped around him, her fingers tunnelling through his hair as she bucked her hips against his. She heard and felt his growl at her enthusiasm and pushed her harder against the wall.

He began to kiss her, hard, allowing all of his need and longing for her announce itself in the lavish movements of his tongue. After what could have been a minute or an eternity, he pulled his head away from hers. His hair stood rather fetchingly on end, his lips looked slightly swollen and his eyes swam with lust. Still, he arched an eyebrow at her, curled his lips and raggedly promised, "I'm gonna make you _scream_,"


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok, folks, sorry it took me so long to update but I have a real problem writing smut, so...so there you go! I gave in: 5 chapters of clothed non-smut and now a chapter of unclothed smut.**

**Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed along the way and a special thanks to grandma and willi for reading over and improving this for me. Couldn't have done it without you guys!**

**Bones does not belong to me. If it did, a scene such as this would be a regular occurrence. Enjoy!**

She gasped against his ear, the breath shooting out of her lungs at the possibility of his words.

"Is that a promise?" she whispered, bucking her hips slowly against his.

"It's a guarantee," he growled, tightening his grip on her ass as he swung her away from the wall. She squeaked, more from excitement than fear, as he carried her across the room. She tightened her grip on him, because she felt she should rather than she actually needed to: she felt safe with him.

Booth halted beside the bed and simply looked at her. The contours of his face were heavily shadowed in the murky room and she couldn't make out the pupils of his eyes, just their liquid shine. But she knew his gaze was directed at her. In fact, she knew all his senses were focused on her alone.

She could feel his breath, warm against her cheek. His arms were draped around her, not tightly, but taut, as though reminding her of the capabilities of his strength. The hairs coating the back of her neck began to stand to attention, to her astonishment: how could he have her on high alert when he wasn't even moving or speaking?

After a moment she realised that he wanted her to disembark, so to speak. Sensing the underlying change in current in the room, she gently untangled her legs from around his waist, but allowed the curves of her body to slide off him as she steadied herself on the floor. His body couldn't lie: a shiver thundered through him at her actions.

Brennan tilted her head slightly as she regarded him, lips barely pursing. She didn't move again, didn't waver; just waited for him to speak. He cleared his throat and scuffed the floor in a nervous gesture. His hand darted up and swept through his hair several times.

"I…eh…Bones, I just have to check."

In response, she increased the angle of her tilted head.

He sighed, pretending to be exasperated, but the flash of his front teeth told her he was amused by her resilience to remain silent.

"I…I've just, I've wanted this for so long and I just need to be certain, absolutely one hundred percent certain, that you want it too."

He pressed his lips together. She caught sight of a film of moisture just outside the outline of his mouth and realised he must have licked his lips in his agitation at some point. His Adam's apple bobbed as he waited.

She ducked her head, as though shy, then met his gaze again; thus ensuring that she was peering at him through her lashes. She smiled: a languid, inviting smile. She relaxed her body and stepped closer to him, her movements as limber as a feline. His eyes widened at the sight of her prowling towards him, then his mouth fell open as she pressed herself against him, one hand taking a firm grip of the bulge in his jeans.

She stood like that for a few seconds, letting him feel the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, the graze of her teeth against his jaw. Then she purred into his ear, "What exactly is it you're not getting here?"

She allowed a moment of silence to vibrate in their eardrums before her lips shivered against his earlobe.

"I want you,"

She brushed her smooth porcelain cheek against his stubbled one and felt a thrill creep down her spine at the friction. She tilted her head so that her breath fell against his cheek and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes flutter in response.

"I need you…tonight."

Booth attempted to respond here but she stopped him with a kiss. She imagined she could feel every crease of his lips as her mouth moved against his. Slowly, she broke the connection.

"I…I need you for more than tonight." she said adamantly.

This got his attention more than anything else. She sighed and rested her forehead against his. Both were contented for a few moments to listen to the other breathe, to feel the deliciously ticklish sensation of strands of Brennan's hair brushing their faces.

"It would be easy for me to pretend that this was just about sex…but it's not. I've been in relationships before, why not pursue something with you? I already have more chemistry with you than I've had with most of my boyfriends and we haven't even done anything yet." she said logically.

He chuckled, the feeling bubbling as it moved through his body.

"We've done quite a bit tonight," he replied.

She bit her lip coyly then looked into his eyes for a moment. It was a rather electrifying experience given that their faces were in such close proximity. Then her tongue darted out and traced his bottom lip. A groan rumbled low in his throat as his eyelids drooped.

"We haven't even started, Booth."

He grinned at her and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. She snaked her arms around his waist, up his back and melded herself to him. She felt the muscles in his back, his stomach, his thighs; everything tensed as they plastered themselves together. She was fairly certain he could feel the staccato beat of her pulse thrumming through her. It was currently ringing in her ears, confusing her sense of propriety and making her bold.

"Take me to bed," she breathed against his face, somewhere between his jaw and his ear.

A sound midway between a chuckle and a growl thundered through him as he placed an arm behind the back of her knees, scooped her up and gently laid her down on the cotton sheets.

All of a sudden, he was on top of her, his weight comfortably heavy and…real. She must have gasped quietly in surprise, for his eyes suddenly dropped to the hollow of her throat and then shot up quickly to meet her gaze.

"It's not too late, Bones, we can still just leave this an…"

Her mouth effectively aborted the continuation of that sentence. Brennan could feel, as well as hear, the rate of his breathing increase as he settled himself more fully upon her. His fingers, almost tentatively, caressed the contours of her face; her hands wound around the back of his neck.

His tongue was whirling through her mouth, stroking her own tongue, her teeth, every ridge and hollow. Every now and again he pulled back ever so gently to plant a sweetly chaste kiss against her parted lips.

She slipped her hands down his back and felt his mouth open against hers in response. In fact, his hips pressed rather forcefully into her as his back arched at her actions. She slid her hands under the material of his shirt and began gently stroking the smooth skin she found. The depression of his spine transformed into hard pebbles and, just as quickly, back into a deep crevice as he bucked gently against her. She started to lightly touch the dusting of hair at the base of his back and felt, for the first time, Seeley Booth shuddering on top of her.

"Jesus, Bones!" he panted, parting her legs with his knee and moving his kneecap agonisingly slowly up the inside of her thighs. Her entire skeleton momentarily tensed as a swell of desire suddenly crashed through her. Her fingers reluctantly left the warm cocoon between material and skin and crept around his front to fumble with the buttons lining his shirt.

Booth moved his hands down her sides until they rested on her hips. Something about the broad span of his fingers against her was incredibly arousing and she pushed her hips up, almost without thinking. His body thrust back reflexively and her fingers seemed to lose all their strength. They wouldn't work; she couldn't work and Booth had to undo the last four buttons himself.

He sat up to pull the garment off and Brennan was fascinated at the fleeting dimples, ripples and bulges that flashed through his impressive physique at the movement. Before he had a chance to lie back down, she rose off the bed to meet him and began licking and nipping at his chest. His knee, still nestled between her legs, started to push and move against her, slowly rotating in syncopation with her breathy cries.

Her tongue rolled over his nipples, raced down his body to dip briefly into his navel and snaked back up to repeat the performance. On her second trip down, she softly tugged at the hairs of his 'treasure trail' with her teeth. His hands began pulling her top over her head, gently pushing her back to complete the job.

Their mouths met again as Brennan's top sailed through the air, hungry and desperate after such a brief time apart. Soft sounds of sucking, of mouths parting, of moist lips meeting, thrummed through Brennan's ears and set her nerves singing. The surface of her skin ignited as his hands skimmed around her back to undo the clasp of her bra.

The feeling of release as he slid the material off and the slight swing of her breasts as she sat back sent stars shooting from her centre. He looked at her as though he couldn't get enough. Her skin tingled and warmed under his gaze, but she felt no shame. She even moved her shoulders back to display her cleavage more fully. He stared at her reverently for a few moments before leaning forward and taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

Her skin seemed to constrict and every movable limb straightened painfully as his lips touched her. His tongue darted out, teasing and playing with her. Her head tilted back and she felt her throat expand as a feeble groan sent a tremor through her. With an almost indiscernible grunt, Booth shifted his head from one breast to the other. The hot, wet coating he left behind instantly cooled at air temperature: erupting goosebumps followed and her nipples seemed, impossibly, to tighten even more.

Booth obviously sensed this as his lips appeared to falter as a shiver swept over him. He moaned something that sounded like "fuck…so fucking hot," but Brennan felt as though she was soaring high above the room and was really beyond caring what he said to her cleavage, as long as it didn't cause him to stop caressing her with his magic tongue. Her body seemed weightless; her head didn't feel as though it was connected to anything else. Everything physical that constituted Dr. Temperance Brennan didn't feel as though it belonged to her: she couldn't move or speak as Booth's lapping tongue trailed down her body.

He moved his hands to the zip of her very proper work trousers and she gasped as she smelt the desire radiating off him in waves. Soon her own scent reached her nostrils and she closed her eyes as his hands seemed to burn through the thin fabric of her pants. His knee moved away from her centre and she mumbled something childish at the loss in pressure to this very important area. She soon forgot this, though, as Booth began to slide her pants down, torturously slowly.

Brennan felt her legs tremble uncontrollably, saw rather than consciously initiated the wanton thrust of her hips toward him, was aware of the tilt of her pelvis as the throbbing in her crotch vibrated through her. Her unadorned black panties didn't matter: she felt as though she was naked before him already. She wished he was in the same state of undress as her but felt too weak with bone-melting passion to do anything about this. He finally slipped the pants over her ankles and dropped them over the side of the bed. She reached over and wrenched off her painfully high heels.

Booth leaned back on his haunches and simply regarded her lying before him: lips parted as she panted, breasts and painfully tight nipples heaving and legs slightly spread. He closed his eyes briefly and slowly opened them once more: as though afraid this was all a dream; that if he stopped for a moment she would unapologetically disappear.

He leaned forward, so that his chest hovered over hers, and began to lazily draw his hands up the back of her shins. Brennan's very muscles trembled and squirmed under his deliberately slow ascent. Her mouth was dry and her breathing shallow. When he reached the back of her knees he swept his thumbs over the sensitive skin, back and forth repeatedly, until every nerve was humming. She let out a whimper as a wave of unbridled lust shuddered down her spine. Booth leaned down and kissed her; softly at first but it quickly became more urgent as their passion heightened. He stroked his fingers over the backs of her thighs and she shivered, her mouth falling open at the sensation. Her hands clumsily reached for his belt and swiftly undid it.

She struggled with the button and zip of his jeans for a number of seconds; her fingers weren't working too well as Booth had decided to slip his hands under the back of her panties and firmly cup her ass. Her body arched off the bed as his gentle fingers wandered down and softly brushed off the lower folds of her sex. Mumbling a noise between a moan and a curse, Brennan began to forcefully pull his jeans down. With a pang of regret evident in his eyes, Booth reluctantly removed his hands to allow her to finish striping him of his clothes.

She felt the muscles of his thighs tense as her fingers skimmed over his skin. Her gaze was hypnotically drawn to the impressive bulge in his boxers and she felt a frisson of anticipation tingle across her scalp. He finished removing the jeans himself as his shoes and socks still had to be dispensed of first. Finally, the two leaned back and regarded one another: a pair of black cotton panties and brightly striped boxers was all that separated them now.

They studied one another somewhat warily, knowing that once one of them shifted, it was all over. With a strangled moan, Brennan moved towards him, her hand reaching up to wrap around his neck. He could have moved at exactly the same moment, or perhaps it had been a split second later…either way, she really didn't care. They tumbled sideways onto the duvet, arms and legs entangled together, pulling the other down with them. Brennan could hear harsh breathing and feel a heightened pulse reverberating through her but she was having difficulty discerning whether it was her own or Booth's.

His fingers were everywhere: trailing over her stomach, tracing her clavicle, circling her pubic area over her panties, following the curve of her breasts… But she wasn't letting him have all the fun either. Her hand swept over the ridges of his torso, explored the surprisingly soft skin behind his knee and palmed his ass, allowing her fingertips to shimmy down under the fabric and graze his balls. The breath propelled out of him and he rolled on top of her, pinning her down with his body.

"You ready, Temperance?" he growled, his voice low and husky but a slight tinge of apprehension was evident.

She smiled languidly at him and reached down to pull her panties off. When she had kicked them off her ankles she reached a hand up to pull him closer, tilting her hips so that his erection hit off exactly the right spot.

"Since the day I met you, Seeley," she purred flirtatiously.

A noise of unbridled desire rumbled through him and he kissed her softly before gently capturing her lower lip between his teeth. His tongue stroked her immobile lip while his hands moved to slowly slide his boxers off his hips. He gently arched against her as he shimmied the fabric down his body. While he was otherwise engaged, Brennan immediately reached down and fisted his manhood, trying and failing to get her fingers to meet around the circumference.

Booth bucked harder than he had all evening and he seemed to momentarily tangle himself in the descending boxers. Brennan used this opportunity to pump up and down his shaft a number of times and shiver the pad of her thumb over the glistening tip. Booth appeared to choke at this and kicked the boxers rather violently from his person.

He grabbed her hands and pulled them up over her head. Everything crackled between and within them: there were no restrictions anymore.

"Em, Bones…Temperance…do you have any…?" he squeaked, rather piteously.

Brennan tilted her head slightly, exposing the column of her throat. She nestled her hips more snugly against his, delighting in the string of curses she wrenched from his mouth.

"I'm on the pill, Booth. And I've nothing to hide from you. And if you say you've nothing to protect me from then…"

"I don't." he barked, his willingness to appear sincere making his voice rather strained.

"Then I trust you," she finished.

With that, he pushed into her. Brennan's head rolled back even further and she could have sworn her back arched clean off the bed. Booth's mouth opened in a silent groan, his eyes squeezed shut. He thrust his hips once more against her and Brennan was convinced she saw fireworks. Her skin was hypersensitive; any touch or pressure from him sent tight ribbons of pleasure revolving from her womb.

He released his hands from around her wrists and slid one hand between them and began to roll his fingers over her clit. Brennan swore and he laughed in surprise as he leaned in to kiss her deeply. One of her hands entangled in his hair while the other clawed at the duvet as his fingers continued to stimulate her. She wasn't sure if she was screaming, moaning or crying; she just knew she'd never been this vocal in all her life.

Their movements became faster, more urgent. Brennan's legs began kicking frantically and one knee moved up behind him, pushing against his ass and urging him deeper. She was convinced the bed had to be shaking away from the wall. She felt a drop of sweat trickle between her breasts and saw that Booth's hair was a shade darker, damp from activity.

Their bodies slammed and strained against each other, both trying desperately to claim what had really been theirs from the moment they had laid eyes on one another. Brennan nearly couldn't breathe she was panting so hard but she managed to gasp, "Now, Seeley, now!" before he lunged against her one final time and everything went white. She could see, hear and feel him shuddering above her, calling her name as his spine stretched but she felt as though she was observing the scene from somewhere very far away.

They wrapped their arms around one another as their bodies trembled together. Booth turned to the side, quickly gathering her to him once more as they lay side-by-side, gulping and smiling.

"That…that was just…" Booth gasped, chest rising and falling with exertion.

Brennan giggled and reached her hand up to smooth back his hair and stroke his face, taking care to outline his lips. He opened his mouth and began to suckle on her fingertip.

"Just…" she agreed coyly, moving her free hand down to get him ready for round two. She needn't have bothered. Feeling dizzy with pleasure, she rolled on top of him; her stomach jerking at the happiness in his eyes, happiness she knew was reflected in her own.

And they continued doing _just_ that for the rest of the night.


End file.
